


WankMate IV

by Leela



Series: WankMate the Series [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-01
Updated: 2011-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-20 22:10:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leela/pseuds/Leela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The <em>touching</em> conclusion to the WankMate series. *ahem*</p>
            </blockquote>





	WankMate IV

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta** : eeyore9990

Draco readjusted the half-mask that he'd been given when he entered the ballroom of the Hôtel des Sorciers. The plain white mask had burst into colour and sprouted decorations as soon as he put it on. He'd glanced in a mirror shortly after that, reassuring himself that it wasn't as humiliating as the one on the giggling twit with its towering Fwooper feathers and cheap pink sequins.

His mask, thankfully, was nothing like that. No gaudy flowers or feathers. It was a perfect complement to his robes and his intentions. The mask itself was a purple so dark that it looked black in the shadows. Lighter purple gems studded the upper corners, connected by swirling gold lines, and a larger, even darker purple gem in the centre of the "forehead". Only the single green chain that hung down from the left side of his mask disturbed Draco. It was the exact same colour as the strap that lay curled in the bottom of his pocket.

Speaking of which, Draco thought, Potter had had more than long enough to take the initiative. He retrieved the disillusioned WankMate glove from where he'd folded it over his belt and then placed that hand into his pocket to take hold of the strap. His wand slid down into his other hand from its arm holster. Murmuring a spell under his breath, he tightened the strap.

"Harry! Are you—"

The squawk of Granger's voice, although immediately drowned out by a rising hubbub of voices brought a smirk to Draco's face. Potter was here, and he'd brought his gloves.

He 'tugged' on the strap one more time before going out onto the terrace. There were fewer people willing to brave the cool, damp night, and they were settled in the shadows, enjoying their own distractions. After ensuring that no one but Potter could follow him, he made his way to the clearing that he'd had his house-elf prepare. The wards pressed against him briefly, before granting him entry.

A blanket lay on the ground, scattered with pillows and cushioned for his comfort. Draco settled onto it with a sigh of pleasure. A touch to the closure of his robes opened them. He pulled on the other WankMate glove and was about to activate them when his wand chimed.

"Harry." Releasing that forbidden word into the open air, the one he'd only ever spoken in the security of his own fantasies, sent a rush of desire through him, and he was hard in an instant. He fumbled his breeches open, shoved them down to mid-calf, where they caught on his boot tops. As soon as he could, he slid a gloved hand into his pants.

He'd barely taken hold of his cock when pressure encouraged him to part his legs. The positioning was awkward, his breeches keeping his lower legs together as his knees fell to either side.

"Remove them." Potter's voice echoed around the clearing, too close to be projected. His skin prickled as Potter breached the wards — the only other person who was permitted through them.

Draco looked around. He couldn't see Potter, even though he had to be there. "Bloody Invisibility Cloak," he grumbled.

The delighted sound of Potter's laughter seemed to settle at the base of Draco's spine. "Undress yourself," Potter said, emphasising each syllable with a phantom tug on Draco's balls. "Show me who I've found."

"And if I don't?"

Fingers trailed across the sensitive skin of Draco's lower stomach, avoiding his cock, rather than touching it. "I'll assume that you want to be left alone."

"Will you?" One end of the strap in each of his hands, Draco snapped it taut.

"Ahhhhh..." The moan came from his left.

Draco smiled, but then fingers closed around his cock, and his hips jerked upwards.

"I need to know that you want me." Potter squeezed lightly. "With more than just this."

"Want you?" Draco arched into Potter's ghostly grip. His voice was ragged as he answered his own question. "I can't remember a time when I didn't. I've always wanted you — to notice me, to _feel_ me." He ran the strap over his mouth, licking it, tasting sweat and salt and something indescribable that created an ache in the back of his throat where Potter's not-quite-real cock had once bumped.

"I've always noticed you," Potter said hoarsely. "Even when you drove me mad and made me want to hurt you for being so utterly wrong-headed. And now—" He sighed.

"Now?"

Potter's hands became gentle, skimming upwards, tracing the lines of faded scars on Draco's chest. Potter's mark, Draco called them in the privacy of his own room, behind his bed curtains, and he'd refused to allow them to be erased.

"Now," Potter said, "I want to _feel_ you, to _fuck_ you, to _hold_ you, and to _keep_ you."

Each emphasised word was punctuated by the press of Potter's mouth against Draco's skin, stealing Draco's thoughts and leaving him panting for breath.

"Potter," he said, and then when that resulted in the lips going away, "Harry."

Draco never begged, couldn't bring himself to ask when a demand would suffice, and wasn't sure that he'd ever spoken the word 'Please' in a way that wasn't laden with sarcasm. However, all of those things and more were layered into Potter's first name when he spoke it. And Potter was clearly smart enough to realise it.

" _Removere Vestern_."

The sensation of his clothes slithering off his body was more erotic than Draco had ever imagined. Potter's magic caressed his skin at the same time as his legs were parted, and Potter's thumbs toyed with the skin behind his balls. Draco moved his own hands down, groaning as the strap grazed his cock.

"Touch yourself," Potter said.

Raising the strap to his mouth, Draco blew on it and it evaporated. He grasped his own cock as Potter moaned. He could barely feel his hand, compared to the push and press and tease of Potter's. He spread his legs further and raised his hips, rolling them until Potter's finger entered him.

The lube was cool and slick. Potter's gloved finger was blunt and very soon was far from enough. It could never be enough, especially since Potter was in the clearing with him. "Want you," he said. "All of you. Tonight and tomorrow and all the days afterwards."

Potter's intake of breath seemed loud in the magically ensured quiet of the clearing. "Take—" Potter cleared his throat. "Take them off."

His right hand holding the cuff of his left glove, Draco paused. This would make it real. Potter would be touching him; he'd be touching Potter. Draco's arousal ratcheted up another notch as Potter moved his hands away. This was what he'd imagined from the minute he'd understood what George wanted to create.

"Malfoy?"

Draco peeled off each of his gloves, raised himself on one elbow, and flung them in the direction of Potter's voice. They hit fabric. "The cloak as well," he said.

The Invisibility Cloak, when it was pooled on the ground, proved to be almost the same colour as the WankMate gloves that lay next to it. It was the opposite of Draco's father's cloak, which was the kind of black that seemed to absorb all the available light.

Just like Potter seemed to absorb all the breath from Draco's body when he was revealed to be mostly naked. His shoes, socks, and trousers lay abandoned on the grass. His shirt was unbuttoned. His cock was hard, and long and thick enough to make Draco lick his lips. He wanted to feel that cock in his mouth, inside him.

"Will I do?" Potter stripped off his own gloves, tossing them on top of his cloak, and then added his shirt to the pile. His cock bobbed with each step. "Tell me, Malfoy."

"You'll..." Draco's thoughts stuttered to a halt as Potter knelt on the end of the blanket. He forced himself to continue. "You'll do just fine."

Rolling onto his back, Draco slid down the blanket, hooked his feet behind Potter's thighs, and pulled him forwards. Potter toppled on top of him, catching himself on his forearms. His cock dug into Draco's hip. They hung there like that for a moment, staring into each other's eyes.

"Without these," Draco said, and removed Potter's glasses.

Potter blinked and squinted at him. Then he grinned. "Only you wouldn't be able to resist having me at a disadvantage."

"A disadvantage?" Draco asked. "Even this close up?"

Potter's answer was a kiss. Draco bit him in return and sucked in Potter's lower lip. He wrapped his legs around Potter and canted his hips. Potter's incoherent noise and the precome that came as Potter thrust against him made something inside Draco flutter.

"Malfoy." Potter ground against him. The sharp edge of his pelvis rolled over Draco's cock, and Draco opened his mouth to breathe a moan against Potter's jaw. "Let me fuck you," Potter said.

Digging his heels into the dimples above Potter's arse, Draco asked, "What's stopping you?"

Potter placed his fingers against Draco's mouth.

Instead of pointing to the lube, Draco allowed them in. He curled his tongue around them. Laved them and suckled them. When he judged them wet enough, he opened his mouth for Potter to remove them. Potter slid down to kneel between Draco's legs.

And then there were fingers at his arse. Two of them circling his pucker and alternately pressing inside. Need blazed inside Draco at the teasing touches, and he tried to push down on them. Potter's fingers flicked against Draco's arse, and with a wave of magic, Draco was slick enough for Potter to thrust them inside him.

"Yes," Draco hissed. He lost himself in the rhythm, the twist and turn, of being stretched. The occasional, intentional drag of a blunt fingernail against his prostate that had sparks going off behind his closed eyes.

Potter withdrew his fingers, and Draco raised his head to complain. One glance at Potter's cock, at the way the foreskin was pulled back to expose the swollen head, and he changed his mind.

With a hand behind each of his knees, Draco drew his legs up and apart. "Now," he said.

Potter was sheathed inside him in an instant. A single movement that drew a gasping scream from Draco and made his toes tingle and clench. There was anger in Potter's thrusts, and Draco met every single one of them with equal fervour. Their give and take was pain and ecstasy, and something more, something indefinable that took it so far beyond simple fucking that Draco had to clutch at Potter and hold him with his arms and legs, scratch at Potter's shoulders and back. He needed to leave his own mark and make Potter feel as claimed as he did.

"You." Potter mouthed the word into Draco's hair and sucked it onto his ear lobe.

He bit the word into the curve of Draco's neck and shoulder, and Draco surged upwards, drawing Potter inside as deeply as he could, tightening his muscles to keep him there. They hung in that position for an age. Draco gazed into those green eyes, drowning in their intensity.

"Harry." The name was on Draco's lips, pouring out of him as he came in a shuddering pulse that blackened the edges of his vision.

And then he was bent in two as Potter pressed down on him, his hips jerking in a series of quick jabs that hit Draco's prostate and drove him deeper and deeper, extending Draco's orgasm until he was screaming by the time Potter came.

When it was over, Potter moved onto his back, bringing Draco with him. He wrapped his arms around Draco, and Draco curled into him. Potter's magic washed over them, cleaning them and conjuring a soft blanket to cover them.

"Come home with me," Potter said.

Draco opened his eyes, but didn't raise his head to look at him. He couldn't think of a single reason to refuse, so he said, "Yes."

Potter's lips were in his hair, kissing him, when Draco felt the squeeze of Side-Along Apparation.

~o~o~

The next morning, Draco woke up to the chiming of a wand alarm. He looked up at a black canopy with silver embroidery. _Potter's room_ , he thought as he stretched. He found his wand on the side table, and was about to shut it off when he recognised the sound.

"Good morning." Potter was standing at the bottom of the bed, leaning against a post. He brought his right hand, with its silver WankMate glove, to his mouth and sucked on his thumb.

"Morning."

"You seem to have lost your gloves."

Pushing off the covers, Draco palmed his half-erect cock. "I was under the impression that I no longer needed them."

"Really?"

Draco closed his eyes and stretched again, rolling his spine and undulating his hips. When he reopened his eyes, Potter was crouched over him and running his gloved hands over Draco's inner thighs.

"Perhaps you need a little more proof.

"Perhaps," Draco said. He took Potter's hand and raised it to his lips. He kissed the palm. Flicked his tongue out and tasted himself on the fabric. Potter was wearing his WankMate gloves, he realised, and he smiled.  


~fin~


End file.
